


Unforgotten

by OnlyMeAndMyBones



Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Friendship, but there might be some kaladin/adolin undertone there, i ship kaladin with happiness and with no one else, kaladin and adolin are friends, not a couple, radiants, shardblades, spren - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-21 11:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17042888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyMeAndMyBones/pseuds/OnlyMeAndMyBones
Summary: [post Oathbringer] Adolin joins Kaladin on a mission to evacuate Kaladin's family from his hometown and get them safely to Urithiru. Unfortunately, they run into a group of Fused on the way, and with that, Adolin's life makes an unexpected turn ...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just me having fun with something I really hope is going to happen in the next book: Adolin reviving his Shardblade and becoming a Radiant. Also, I love Kaladin so very much and I need more of his and Adolin's friendship. Please don't take this too seriously and please forgive my English, it's not my native language.  
> I don't yet know how many chapters this is going to have. There will be at least a second one, maybe more. We'll see. I don't have any plans to make something bigger out of this. Most likely it's going to be a collection of loosely connected oneshots with the characters having a good time for once.

**Unforgotten**

 

Adolin was starting to regret coming on this mission. Kaladin, two of his Windrunner squires of whom one – Lopen – had already sworn his second Oath, Renarin, and then _he_ had wanted to come along as well?

Not only had he “lost” his lunch on the flight again, unlike Renarin, who had seemed to be perfectly fine high in the air, with a _highstorm_ beneath them, but now he felt utterly useless.

There were _Fused_ here. Kaladin, being the notorious showoff he was, was fighting _three_ of them at the same time, while Lopen and Leyten were keeping the fourth at bay, albeit barely.

Renarin was fighting another two, those who didn’t fly but could somehow _slide_ on the ground like Lift, the Edgedancer girl from Azimir and Adolin … well, he tried to help Renarin without getting in the way.

 _I shouldn’t have come with them_ , he thought. _I’m useless_. Part of him wanted to sit back and cheer for Renarin, who lacked training in fighting, but made up for it with _Radianting_ , or whatever you wanted to call it. He healed incredibly quickly from any wounds, just like back in Thaylen City when the thunderclast had practically _stepped_ on him several times. Adolin was never going to forget the terror he’d felt when he had watched this, believing Renarin was dead, only seconds after going against the stone monster.

But the truth was, as long as Renarin had Stormlight, nothing was going to happen to him, and even the little training he’d had paid off – sometimes he even summoned Glys as a spear like Kaladin did most of the time.

Adolin on the other hand relied solely on his dueling skills and reflexes; he had neither brought his Shardplate, nor would there have been time to put it on anyway.

 _Why_ had he insisted on coming with them? Shallan had been right – Kaladin and his team would have been perfectly fine without him. Perhaps even more so.

“Adolin!” Renarin cried and saved him from a blow by one of the Fused who fought with gigantic axes.

Damnation, a year ago, Adolin wouldn’t have thought it possible that _Renarin_ of all people was going to save his butt in a fight.

Even though Adolin was increasingly aware that he was nothing than a burden to the crew, he was incredibly proud of his little brother.

A screech from above made him look up – Kaladin had managed to kill the host of one of the Fused, bringing his opponents down to two. Adolin had no doubt that the bridgeboy was going to win this fight. Down here, things looked different – while Renarin was holding the Fused at bay, he wouldn’t be able to kill their bodies, and Adolin was more concerned with avoiding the opponent’s blows than actually trying to _hit_ them.

He knew, though, why he’d come, and he also knew he’d still have come, had he known what was waiting for them here.

The mission to evacuate Kaladin’s family from his hometown in Northern Alethkar had been a welcome chance for Adolin to get away from Urithiru. Ever since he had learned about what had happened in Rathalas when his mother had died, he had barely been able to be in a room with his father.

He knew Renarin felt the same way. They had talked about it, and even though both of them knew Dalinar had changed, for the moment they were too overwhelmed by what they had learned to forgive him. Adolin hoped that he _could_ , but right now a fight for his life, half a continent away from Urithiru, was exactly what he needed.

Father hadn’t objected when both Renarin and Adolin had asked for permission to accompany Kaladin, and Kaladin himself seemed to have some trouble with this knew, now common knowledge about Dalinar, as he had instantly agreed to take them both with him.

Of course, they had been expecting to run into some parshmen along the way, but a patrol of _six_ Voidbringers?

Regardless, they had come here and now needed to deal with those monsters without getting themselves killed in the process. The latter of course mostly applied to Adolin.

He charged forward as one of the Fused stuck their axe in Renarin’s chest, leaving him gasping for air. He crashed into the Fused, swinging Maya wildly. Renarin basically could heal from _any_ wound, but only so long as he was alive. He _was_ alive, wasn’t he? Adolin turned around to check, only to see that Renarin, uniform torn and bloodied, was already standing straight again, and then-

Something struck him in the side, digging deep into his guts. His vision blackened from the pain; he could hear Renarin yell out. Maya puffed away into mist, leaving behind a faint feeling of horror. Before he hit the ground, the Fused lifted their axe again, but before they could finish the job, Renarin was over them, hacking away with his Blade.

Adolin tried to get up again in reflex, but the motion send a numbing pain through his torso. Damnation, he could _feel_ his guts coming out from the wound in his side. How fast was he going to die from _that_? Sure, Renarin would be able to heal him, but for that, he needed _time_. The Fused didn’t seem too inclined to give him any, and now he had to fight both of them on his own. This was worse than the injury back in Shadesmar. Way, way worse. Without Renarin’s healing, he had zero chance of surviving this: the kind of wound you saw after battles, when the screams of the dying disrupted the silence.

Still, he could see Renarin’s face, a face he’d known as timid, uncertain all his life, downcast eyes, trying to avoid getting too much attention. Now, they _burned_ with fury. It seemed almost as if the Thrill had come upon Renarin, but Adolin knew it for what it truly was: the unstoppable rage of a person trying to save someone dear to them.

A glowing figure in blue landed next to him. Lopen entered the fight on the ground, most likely because Kaladin and Leyten were now able to do the rest on their own. Or maybe Kaladin would have been able to do all of it on his own in the first place.

Adolin blinked. He felt dizzy. He couldn’t feel his legs, and he didn’t feel as much pain anymore as he probably should have. That wasn’t a good thing, right?

Was he _actually_ going to die now? Almighty, this couldn’t be, right? _Sorry, Shallan_ , he thought. They hadn’t been married for two months and now this. He got himself killed just like that. This wasn’t the way he had pictured his own death. Dying in battle, okay, he could do that, but in such a fight? He had at least hoped to stay until the end, to die in the last stand against the Voidbringers and Odium, preventing humankind from being exterminated.

The bridgeboy wasn’t going to like that. _Sorry, Kal_. He couldn’t speak.

He flexed his fingers, as if trying to summon Maya again, his hand resting on his breast.

Four heartbeats later she landed in his hand.

Adolin didn’t have time to think about what that meant. Maya was _screaming_. Ears ringing, he tried to lift his head and look at her. The feeling of fear and horror was overwhelming. She was _crying_. How was that possible? Sure, summoning her had always been faster since Thaylen City, and whenever he had summoned her, he had felt some kind of attachment coming from her, as if she _liked_ being summoned by him. He had tried to ask Kaladin’s spren what that might mean, but Syl hadn’t been able to give him an answer. Or rather, as Kaladin had put it: “She doesn’t like Shardbearers at all and I believe she doesn’t want to acknowledge that your Blade seems to like you.”

Well, that wasn’t going to matter much anymore soon, wasn’t it? He gripped the hilt of the Blade with weak fingers, stroking it with his thumb. “..’mm sorry … Maya”, he gasped. He had hoped … deep inside … that maybe … maybe …

 _… ords_. What? _Words!_ That was a voice in his head, faint, a whisper in the wind, just like when Maya had given him her name.

 _Words!_ , she said once more, urgently.

What words?

But of course, Adolin knew which words Maya wanted him to speak.

But …

“ADOLIN! Stay awake! I’m coming!” That was Renarin, still fighting, still trying to wreck the Fused. There was an edge to his voice, a horror almost beyond comprehension.

 _Words! Words!_ , Maya repeated in his mind, frantic.

Adolin swallowed. Could he … do that?

He opened his mouth. “Life … before … before death.”

Damnation, it was hard to move his lips, to draw enough air into his lungs to make even the faintest sound.

“Strength … ‘fore … weakness.”

He didn’t feel _any_ strength right now.

“Adolin! Renarin, _get to him!”_ That was Kaladin. Storms, the bridgeboy could sound scary when he was worried.

Something inside Adolin _stirred_.

“Journey … before …” He trailed off, unable to see anything anymore. That was it, right?

 _WORDS ADOLIN WORDS!_ He startled. For a dead spren Maya really could be _loud_.

His fingers twitched.

“Destination.”

He gasped as he somehow _drew_ in all the Stormlight from the few spheres in his pocket, which wasn’t much, but it made him aware of his surroundings again, made him feel pain again, and even though he groaned in agony, he knew feeling pain was a very good sign right now.

Renarin threw himself in the ground next to Adolin. Had he noticed what Adolin had done? Maya was _trembling_ in Adolin’s hand.

“Ren … give me … sphere …” It was still hard to speak at all, and Renarin didn’t seem to understand what he meant.

“I have to … storms … have to … like Kaladin showed me …” Renarin had received some medical training from Kaladin at Thaylen City, so he could use his healing more efficiently. And while Adolin did appreciate that a lot, he just wanted to … Renarin _had_ to have spheres on him, how had Adolin done this just now? He … took a painful breath and _felt_ the light rise from Renarin’s pocket and enter his own body.

Renarin gasped.

It wasn’t a very pleasant experience as his guts were _pulled_ pack into his body, bones reset themselves, and Adolin didn’t feel very inclined to repeat this, though he figured this was exactly the thing that was going to happen to him rather frequently from now on.

Now that he … storms!

“You’re a …” Renarin trailed off.

 _Radiant_ , Maya noted, sounding very satisfied. _Words. Good words. Adolin._

As the pain finally faded away and Adolin felt some strength return to him, he turned his head to look at Renarin. “Yeah. I believe … I might have done some Stormlighting here.” He frowned. Storms, was Renarin crying?

Renarin bent down and pulled Adolin in a tight and rather awkward hug. “Careful.” Maya _was_ still resting across his breast.

“Adolin!” Kaladin landed next to them in a flash of Stormlight, a dangerous edge to his voice. The bridgeboy was _terrified_. Adolin could imagine what this had to look like – him lying in a pool of blood, Shardblade with him, Renarin sobbing quietly.

Adolin turned to look at him. He was _exhausted_. “Don’t look at me like that, bridgeboy. You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Kaladin drew a forced breath. “Don’t get too full of yourself, the only thing I was worried about was to hear you whine about your ruined uniform. Doesn’t look all that fancy anymore now.”

Adolin snorted while Renarin sat up again. “Kaladin”, he whispered. “I didn’t heal Adolin. He … look at his Blade!”

Kaladin frowned. Adolin looked at what caught their attention. Maya was _glowing_. Faintly, but unmistakably in the fading evening light.

“Hand me a sphere”, Adolin demanded.

“You’re kidding me.” Kaladin did as asked, placing a ruby sphere in Adolin’s hand.

He wasn’t kidding, but as he tried to suck in the Stormlight deliberately, nothing happened. “Come on! This just somehow put my guts back in my body, I know it did.”

“It’s true”, Renarin whispered, voice hushed. “He healed this by himself. He sucked the Stormlight right out of my pocket.”

On Kaladin’s side, a glowing, ghostly-blue figure emerged from thin air. Tall as a human, she knelt on the ground, looking very, very stunned.

“Hey, Syl.” Adolin grinned. “Still hate me?”

“This can’t be”, she whispered. Could spren attract other spren? Adolin almost felt like she there _should_ be awespren popping up all around Syl as she regarded Maya. “She … she is … not quite what she was but … far from dead. Can you … talk to her?”

Adolin frowned. “I don’t know. Maya?” _Maya?_

 _Words_ , it came back to him. _Good words. Adolin._

“Can you … speak to me?”

_Words, Adolin. More._

“I guess … not really.” He shrugged. “She doesn’t seem to be able to communicate beyond a few words.”

A faint impression of _annoyance_ brushed over him. He grinned. “But she doesn’t like me pointing it out. So, uh, what about the Fused? Did you get them all?”

Kaladin nodded. “We should get going before they return with new hosts. I don’t want to draw their attention to Hearthstone.”

Lopen and Leyten were hovering behind him. They were the only ones in their group whose uniforms were still mostly intact. Renarin was bare-chested; after the hit to the chest he’d taken earlier he must have gotten rid of the ragged pieces of cloth completely. His skin was still bloody, just as Adolin looked down on himself and found his own uniform a blood-soaked mess. And … well, having your intestines cut apart made _other_ things leak out as well. Great.

Kaladin didn’t loom much better, he had several slices in his coat and trousers, all bloody, and he was missing a boot. What was is with the bridgeboy and his boots?

Adolin gathered his strength and sat up. He still did feel rather sore. “How far do we have to go?” he asked Kaladin. Maya was now lying on the ground beside him, pulsing softly with light, appearing … pleased?

Kaladin looked up at the darkening sky. “Hearthstone is only a few minutes away if we fly. Walking will take us at least an hour, but I don’t want to risk flying. We’re much less visible on the ground.”

“Great”, Adolin sighed. He really, _really_ wanted to take a bath and get into some clean clothes. He had brought fresh underwear, but none of them had anticipated that they’d need a whole new set of uniforms. Was Kaladin planning on walking the rest of the way with only one boot on?

He wasn’t. As soon as Adolin stood up – Maya still with him – the bridgeboy took off his second boot. “Are you good to go?” Kaladin asked Adolin then. “I know this might be a bit overwhelming right now, but I’d rather not spend the night outside, so let’s talk about this later, shall we?”

Adolin nodded. “Works for me.”

Renarin padded him on the shoulder, a smile on his face. The Kholin brothers, now apparently united as Radiants. Adolin looked down at Maya. Was she going to wake up completely? Would she be able to chance her Shardform? What would she look like as a spren? Like a human or more abstract, like pattern? He’d never seen Lift’s spren, who must be of the same kind as Maya; she had been cultivationspren as he’d learned, which meant Adolin would be an Edgedancer.

He shook his head, incredulous. Sure, part of him _had_ been waiting for something like this. His brother, father _and_ cousin were all Radiants, after all. And Kaladin had, very reluctantly, revealed that Elhokar might’ve been on the brink of becoming a Radiant as well.

Kaladin walked in front, a single sphere in his hand to light the way. Renarin and Adolin came next, feeling so drained he’d probably been able to lie down and sleep on the ground with a rockbud as a cushion. Lopen and Leyten came in the rear, quietly arguing about who of them had made the biggest difference in the fight against the Fused.

“I’ll have you know, Rua is making a rude gesture toward you right now”, Lopen told Leyten. “With _four_ arms.”

Leyten snorted. “Tell him he can storm off. And teach him some manners.”

“I did, gancho.”

Adolin smiled, then looked down at Maya. He was still carrying her. “I really should dismiss you”, he said ruefully. “I’m sorry, but you’re quite noticeable, and that’s exactly the opposite of what we want to be right now.”

Maya pulsed softly. _Not long._

“I promise I’ll summon you again soon, alright?”

_Words._

“Yeah, I’m going to say the next Oath as soon as I can. You think that would … I don’t know, bring you back? For real?”

 _Words_ , she whispered in agreement. She sounded content, so Adolin dismissed her, following Kaladin through the deepening darkness of the evening.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The sight of Hearthstone – light in the windows of some houses – reminded Adolin of another reason for coming here. This reason was also why he’d been rather surprised when Kaladin had so willingly agreed to take him on the mission:

Adolin was _incredibly_ curious about the bridgeboy’s hometown and family. Kaladin never talked about them and when asked, he gave very short, gruff answers. All Adolin knew was that Kaladin’s father was a surgeon and that he had learned a lot from him before joining the army.

Adolin had imagined their arrival in a very different way. The weather was just beginning to change from winter to spring, and the nights were rather chilly, especially with only half a uniform left, and while the others simply protected themselves from the cold with Stormlight, he was left wondering how long it would take him to figure this all out.

So it came that Kaladin led a group of half-naked, blood-soaked and – in Adolin’s case – half-frozen men into town. They didn’t have to walk much farther, as Kaladin stopped at a large two-storey building on the northwestern border of town. “Citylord Roshone lives here,” he told them. “We’ll sleep here. It’s getting late and I don’t want to disturb my parents; there wouldn’t be enough room for us to spend the night in their house anyway.”

The mansion was guarded by two soldiers, holding their spears awkwardly as Kaladin approached them. “Who is this?” the shorter of the two demanded.

“I’m the surgeon’s son, Kaladin. I was here not six months back. You might remember me.” Kaladin held his hands to the side, appearing as non-threatening as he could.

“The Radiant?” The bigger guard asked with obvious surprise.

“Yes. I seek for accommodations for my men for this night and probably the next days.”

“We will go fetch the highlord and highlady, Brightlord.” The guard bowed unnecessarily deep and hushed inside.

Kaladin tensed, folding his arms. Though Adolin knew little about his life here, he figured that Kaladin’s low opinion of lighteyes hadn’t started with Amaram but must be rooted here.

 

Indeed, an hour later, they were sitting in the dining room over soup and soft bread. It was a simple meal, most likely because Hearthstone was affected by the destruction the Everstorm had brought to the food resources to all of Alethkar. Reports were scarce, but same of the towns reported that they were barely able to feed the people anymore. Unfortunately, with the Fused and parshmen in control of most of the country, there was little to be done about that.

The mood was tense; Kaladin obviously had some kind of history with both Brightlord Roshone and his wife Laral.

Adolin remembered the name Roshone. There had been some kind of scandal in Kholinar involving him, but Adolin didn’t know the details; he’d never paid much attention to these affairs back in the day. It had happened before Gavilar had been murdered, after Rathalas … Adolin balled his left hand into a fist underneath the table. It wasn’t the right time to think about _that_.

“Things are settling into some kind of routine”, Laral explained to Kaladin. She was much younger than her husband, barely older than Kaladin. “We’re being left alone for the most part, except for the occasional Voidbringer flying over. Sometimes there are bigger patrols. The ones you’ve encountered earlier must have been one of them; we saw them this afternoon. We’re getting by when it comes to food, though we have to take very good care.”

“I see.” Kaladin hadn’t touched his food yet. He wore trousers and shirt from the cityguard’s uniform. He was lucky that there was a man about his size; he even had a pair of new boots on.

Adolin and Renarin both had gotten clothing from Roshone. It was all horribly outdated, but at least it was clean and they didn’t have to run around almost naked anymore.

“How is the rebuilding of the town going?” Kaladin inquired further while placing one of the two spanreeds he’d brought from Urithiru on the table. “This is for you as I took yours with me last time. It connects to one of Brightlady Navani’s.”

Laral took the spanreed. “Thank you. It’s hard getting replacements these days. We’ve rebuild those homes with the least damage so far, sometimes just making repairs, sometimes adding new compartments. Some of the families who lost their whole houses are flocking together, building sturdier homes in a row with compartments for each family. It’s a smaller problem than getting them all enough to eat.”

“How about my parents’ home? Are they still living there?”

“They are. Their house did well. It’s been expanded with an additional room for your father’s needs and the walls have been reinforced. It has been one of the more well-built homes from the beginning, so the damage was not too bad. Will you be staying here tonight or with them?”

Kaladin nodded toward Renarin, Adolin, Lopen and Leyten. “I’ll be staying here with them. Thank you for your help.”

Roshone grunted. He had barely spoken before. “A storming Radiant and the sons of the most powerful highprince in all of Alethkar must be the most important visitors this storming town has ever seen. If you wanted, you could just take this house and call it yours.”

“Rest assured, Brightlord, that we have no such intentions. A bed and a meal is all we ask for,” Adolin said. He didn’t like Roshone much, even after knowing him for less than two hours.

“Well, we can offer three rooms for now, which means some of you will have to share,” Laral explained.

Lopen and Leyten looked at each other. “We can do that,” Leyten said with a shrug.

“Sure. This will be the most comfortable we’ve slept in ages.” Lopen grinned. “No barracks full with soldiers tonight. Not so much snoring.”

“Yeah, and I’m still stuck with the loudest snorer,” Leyten complained with an exaggerated sigh.

 

It didn’t take them long to split up; after flying across half the continent today and fighting the Fused they were all tired. Kaladin traded their dun spheres for infused ones and retreated to his room while Leyten and Lopen went to theirs, still bickering good-naturedly.

Adolin felt exhausted as he followed Renarin to his room where they both sat down on the freshly made bed. Renarin let out a sigh, revealing his own exhaustion. It was of a different kind than that of most people, yet still so familiar to Adolin.

“You alright?” he asked, watching his little brother.

 “Yeah. I just …” Renarin looked at his hands. “I’m glad we didn’t get to meet Kaladin’s parents today. Back in the fight I was so scared when you … I keep thinking about what could have happened.”

“I know.” Adolin hated it when Renarin was worried about him. It felt … wrong. All their life _he_ had been the one to protect his little brother; it was hard to get used to things being the other way round now. But that was _also_ wrong. “I’m sorry, Renarin.”

“What? Why?”

“I think I kind of came here with you not only because we both couldn’t stand being in Urithiru for now, but I also … I still want to protect you, as if you’re incapable of taking care of yourself, and you’ve proven that you are much stronger than most people think you are.”

Renarin smiled faintly. “I will always appreciate you coming with me, Adolin. Just because I _can_ do these things on my own now doesn’t mean I _want_ to. Besides, I have much to learn about fighting. One day, I want to hack those things apart instead of just letting them cutting _me_ open to keep them occupied.”

Adolin grinned. “You want me to teach you?”

“I want _everyone_ to teach me a thing or two. In Bridge Four I learned a few basics in spear fighting, Kaladin taught me in Thaylen City how to approach healing with regard for basic anatomy which helps me save a lot of Stormlight, and I still work on my sword-fighting skills. I don’t feel as if I know nearly enough.”

Adolin flexed his hand. “I tell you what. I make the finest dueling artist out of you and you help me figure out this Radiant business.”

“Uh, Adolin? Are you sure the Radiant with the corrupted spren is the right one to teach you these things?”

“Yeah sure. When necessary, I’ll ask the bridgeboy, but it’s always good to have more than one teacher.”

Renarin’s mouth twitched while he rubbed his still tense hands without speaking further. Sometimes he was like that, not wanting to speak anymore, playing instead with his-

“Where’s your relax box?” Years ago, when Renarin had started playing with this little metal box, Adolin had asked him why he did that, and the answer had been “it helps me calm down when I’m nervous”, and thus, it had become the relax box.

“Broken,” Renarin groaned quietly. “I had it on me during the fight and it was shattered by one of the blows that hit me. I left the pieces with the rest of the uniform.” The loss of the tool obviously stressed him.

“Storms. We can get you a new one for sure.”

Renarin shrugged. “I guess.”

It was time to leave him alone, Adolin determined from his brother’s posture. “Let’s get some sleep.”

Renarin nodded.

They both undressed and crept in their beds on opposite walls of the small room. It had been a long time since they’d shared a room. Adolin smiled while he listened to Renarin’s slowing breathing, but it was a sad smile. Back when they were children, Renarin sometimes hadn’t been able to fall asleep, so he’d asked Adolin about things he’d seen during the day. What’s this, Adolin? Why do people do that, Adolin? I don’t understand, Adolin.

Sometimes he wished they could go back to this time when life had been simpler. No war, no desolation, just them and their mother and a mostly absent father.

Adolin buried his face in the cushion, exhaling softly. It seemed that, despite his exhaustion, sleep wouldn’t come so easily after all.


End file.
